


i cried wolf

by got_me_wrong



Category: Fargo (2014)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-22
Updated: 2014-06-22
Packaged: 2018-02-05 18:53:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1828594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/got_me_wrong/pseuds/got_me_wrong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>winter was blowing all over me when you fell</p>
            </blockquote>





	i cried wolf

The hospital room’s quiet, even by Wrench’s standards.

Any other room would thrum with the vibrations Numbers would create, waves that always found their way to Wrench. Nervous paces, chuckles, screams. Slammed doors and whispers. Content hums and gasps of pleasure. Buried treasures never to be unearthed again, the map torn to shreds and burned the moment he saw _dead_ take form on that woman’s lips.

He remembers how she smelled of flowers beneath the sour sterility that clings to everything here. There are no flowers for Wrench, not a sprig of lavender to be found. It wasn’t as if Numbers would have brought him even one blossom were he alive, anyhow. _“Pointless,”_ he had once called the notion after Wrench joked that he never received any. “ _Why would I give you something that dies?”_ And then he had smiled up at him, his eyes bright and warm.

The memory of it, of him, sets his chest on fire.

He blinks back tears and scans the room, only to land on that name still written on the whiteboard. Mocking him. That man—no—that _wolf_ ripped his world apart by its teeth. He vaguely knows he’s not the first to think that, that he’s not the first to be swearing vengeance, that he’s only the latest on a laundry list of unfortunate souls to have what they loved the most stolen by this monster in human skin. But his cloak of faux righteousness is gone now, discarded and buried where Numbers fell, and he doesn’t lie to himself and pretend to care about the others anymore. He doesn’t give a damn about Hess’ boozed-up widow and Neanderthal sons or the dozens or perhaps even hundreds of people whose names and stories he’ll never learn. All he knows is he's desperate to see the light leave Malvo’s eyes.

His arm futilely strains against the handcuffs as an angry sob suddenly rips through him. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Three days and back home, back to the life they built on a foundation of their own unspeakable misdeeds. He should be warm in their bed with his lover lazily draped over him, reading or bickering or carefully tracing Wrench’s old scars with his sturdy hands. The way it always was but will never be again. He breathes deeply, ignores the shooting pain from his side and swipes at his eyes.

Through his despair he can feel sleep ambushing him, setting traps in his mind the way it’s been doing since the day everything collapsed around him. His aching eyes slip closed and he pushes all thoughts of the wolf from his mind, instead conjuring an image of Numbers’ determined face. He decides to create a new lie for himself, a fairy tale where his partner finds his way back to him through the white, grinning wickedly in satisfaction over another job well done.

The last thing he imagines before his consciousness eludes him is Numbers signing _“Let’s go home”_ as the same soft smile from his memory overtakes his lips.

**Author's Note:**

> a song fic (i guess), based on 'wolf' by veruca salt


End file.
